


thirty hours to live

by redlight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Heathers, Alternate Universe - High School, Consensual Underage Sex, Consent Issues, Dirty Talk, First Time, Heathers AU, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Lance as Veronica, Lance in a Skirt, Light Masochism, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Stream of Consciousness, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, also lance is kinda drunk, and thigh-highs, but he's only mentioned - Freeform, but like lance does it to himself, dead lance walking ;), it's heathers so like unhealthy shit in general, just the whole dead girl walking scene bc im obsessed with it, keith is heather chandler, like real bad dirty talk i am so sorry, lowkey keith/lance but it's like barely there in the background so, lowkey sheith but still not really, shiro as JD, slut-shaming?, so warning's out for that, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-23 07:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10714653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlight/pseuds/redlight
Summary: “I’m so dead,” Lance hisses under his breath, fingers digging into the window frame as he yanks it up. His heart’s beating hard enough and loud enough to crack his ribs and rearrange his organs, but Lance just lets out a hysterical, nervous giggle as he tumbles into the room.“Oh, I’msodead.”Heathers AU, where Lance breaks into Shiro's bedroom entirely 'cause he wants to piss off Keith Kogane. And because he wants to get freaky with Takashi Shirogane. But mostly the first part.





	thirty hours to live

**Author's Note:**

> hi i've been obsessed with the heathers musical for the last 48 hours someone help me
> 
> anyway _i had to post this before i lost my nerve omg im ashamed_

“I’m so dead,” Lance hisses under his breath, fingers digging into the window frame as he yanks it up. His heart’s beating hard enough and loud enough to crack his ribs and rearrange his organs, but Lance just lets out a hysterical, nervous giggle as he tumbles into the room. “Oh, I’m _so_ dead.”

Shiro’s a light sleeper – of course he is, or maybe he wasn’t even _asleep_ , he’s still fully dressed. But his eyes are tired and he’s getting up from his bed, like he was dozing off in his clothes. He was up as soon as Lance started to mess with the rusted, broken window lock – lucky for him, it’s not like Lance’s noodly arms can break anything sturdier.

But Shiro is up on his feet, almost rushing to catch Lance as he stumbles inside – it’s sweet, it’s like he’s trying to _rescue_ Lance, and he’s practically bolting to do it. And his pale pink lips purse, and that smooth voice of his rattles around the inside of Lance’s head, and Shiro says, “ _Lance_? What are you doing here?”

Lance grins up at him – as sweet and as charming as he can make it, stepping on his tiptoes and tugging at the lock of fluffy white hair on Shiro’s head. “ _Hey_ , big guy,” he stumbles out, a little dazed and a little slurred and a little too flirtatious but _fuck it_. “Sorry to wake you up.”

Shiro’s brows furrow – _ugh_ he’s so cute when he’s concerned, the way his nose scrunches just the tiniest bit and his eyes go all _hot_ and _dark_ when they scan over Lance’s form – maybe if Lance was a little more coherent, he’d be tempted to tug the skirt further down, he’d be flustered about the twigs in his hair and the scrapes on his knees – but Lance is a little drunk and Demon Queen Keith Kogane is gonna ruin his reputation come Monday morning, so it doesn’t _really_ matter.

Doesn’t matter if he’s looking unattainably hot – like Keith, Pidge, and Hunk do, like Lance is always _supposed_ to – or if he’s looking a little too slutty. Lance keeps grinning, and grips at the hem of his skirt – cute, tiny, and blue, Keith forced him into it all those weeks ago – and he tugs it up a little, just to show Shiro a little more flash of skin.

‘Cause, _shit_ , Lance _fantasized_ about Shiro’s eyes raking up his thighs, fucking _dreamed_ and pictured Shiro’s desperate gaze on him as Lance dropped to his knees with his prettiest popular-kid smile and wrapped his lips around the head of Shiro’s _cock_ –

“Lance?” And ‘cause it’s _Shiro’s_ voice, Lance is dragged out of his head, attention focusing on Shiro and Shiro’s troubled frown and Shiro gently taking his hands – _entwining their fingers_ with his flesh hand, the feel of Shiro’s cool prosthetic fingers resting over Lance’s other hand – an accident with one of his dad’s explosives, Shiro had said, back when Lance had talked to him in the 7-11 and got irrevocably _captured_ by Shiro’s worried smile and cold fingers, holding a blue raspberry slushie and offering Lance a sip.

Those fingers are touching Lance now, still cold and frosty like ice shards, reassuring smile as sweet as artificial sugar, and Lance can feel his breath stuttering to a stop in his lungs.

Shiro’s leading him further back into his bedroom. Shiro’s tugging him _closer._

“Are you alright?”

Lance can’t help the bitter, wild giggle that tumbles out of his mouth – _is_ he alright? Keith Kogane – who he doesn't even _like_ , by the way – is gonna field-dress him up and show his guts to the whole school population for fun, and Lance – ugh, Lance doesn't _like_ Keith, they're only barely friends, but –

Keith could’ve been denied it all he wanted, as flippantly and as obliviously as he could – but _he_ was totally into Shiro, too! Lance _saw_ the way Keith’s eyes followed him, before Keith huffed and ran a hand through his stupid pretty 80s hair and caught Lance staring the same direction. _Really, the weird new kid?_

Well – ! Well, it's thirty hours ‘til Monday, thirty hours ‘til the Demon Queen sets hell on him, and Lance is gonna fuck _that weird new kid’s_ brains out, so take _that_ , Keith!

And so Lance shoves Shiro back onto the bed – and, _god_ , Shiro’s dark eyes go wide and affix themselves to Lance’s frame, Lance’s face, Lance’s thighs as he steps after him to crawl over Shiro’s legs. He shifts and shuffles ‘til his knees are astride Shiro’s, and runs his hands up the fabric of black denim obscuring Shiro’s thighs.

“You,” Lance says, pointing a finger into Shiro’s chest, settling into Shiro’s lap. He hopes his smile is as pretty as can be. “Need to fuck me.”

And it’s _fascinating_ , the way Shiro’s full lips part with surprise and his nose scrunches up – the way a beautiful pink flush starts to crawl up from behind his ears, the widening of his eyes. It’s fascinating, intriguing, _addicting_ , something Lance would _happily_ study instead of a chemistry textbook – hell, even an _astronomy_ textbook, which is pretty serious, since Lance once cried joyful fangirlish tears over a boring NASA documentary.

As much as Lance would like to study Shiro’s face – and his arms, and his body, and his _dick_ , _ohmygosh please_ – Shiro’s pulling back, gripping Lance by the shoulders and gently pushing him away.

Except Shiro’s grip is _heavy_ on his shoulders, and all that really does is remind Lance how much he wants Shiro to _break him_.

“Lance, are you drunk – ?” That concerned nose-scrunch is still cute but it’s starting to get _irritating_.

“Shiro!” And – with a strength Lance didn’t think he had, with a confidence he didn’t think he could _exhibit_ , he’s pinning Shiro’s wrists back to the wall. “ _Listen_! You have to fuck me. Even if I – ” Lance’s cheeks flush with a flustered heat, slow and tingly and spreading down his neck, but he manages to spit it out anyway – “Even if I have to ride you ‘til you’re _begging_.”

That flush on Shiro’s face – it’s red and sweet, reminds Lance of 7-11 cherry slushies. It’s even better when it’s matched with the way Shiro’s hands land on Lance’s hips, digging in hard enough to bruise his flesh through his skirt.

“But – ” And Shiro’s showing doubt again, even though his stare is sticky as honey against Lance’s exposed skin, as Lance starts to unbutton the coat that Keith let him have – tossing it behind his head and not caring where it lands. He’s still in his button-up shirt, though, and Lance’s fingers fumble with the top few buttons – except he can’t handle having his hands away from Shiro too long, he’s _weak_ , and so Lance slings his arms around Shiro’s neck. Glares at him when his mouth moves to say more words, probably more protests, so Lance huffs and yanks at that white fluff of hair again – Shiro _gasps_ and it's _lovely_.

“Shut _up_ , Shiro,” Lance purrs, squeezing his thighs around Shiro’s. He gasps out a laugh when Shiro drags him closer – so much for that _above the influence_ bullshit, not so righteous when he’s holding onto Lance so tightly that Lance will _ache_ for days, ache with bruises and longing and _god, maybe even satisfaction_ – “You gonna fuck me or not?”

“I – what if I hurt you?” Shiro’s voice is choked – it’s husky and wrecked and _fuck_ , is that because of Lance? He barely even did anything and Shiro sounds like _that_?

“What if I want you to hurt me?” Lance murmurs, chuckling breathlessly – this is starting to get ridiculous, he wants this so bad, he’s been gagging for it ever since that 7-11 date, Lance _daydreamed_ about this!

And, oh, this is pretty – Shiro’s chewing on his lip nervously, eyes glancing across the room, but Lance grabs him by the chin and forces his gaze to land on _Lance_ , Lance only, not _Keith_ or anyone else –

Lance grins, leans close enough for his eyelashes to brush Shiro’s cheek. “I want you to hurt me.”

This is the pretty part – Shiro’s self-control practically _drains_ out of his being, like the slow-then-fast _drip drip drip_ of a slushie machine. Turns into a sweet, icy mess, tooth-rotting and brain-freezing and Lance wants _all_ of it.

So Shiro’s hiking his skirt up – _oh my god, finally_ – fingertips digging into Lance’s thighs, _please bruise me please bruise me_ , Lance squirms and he can’t keep his grin on his face when his mouth parts in a moan.

“Am I dreaming?” Shiro asks suddenly. Lance snorts and pulls at Shiro’s hair – _hard_ , this time, at the roots, and Shiro _groans_ , low in his throat, high in his reverence. He pushes Lance down to grind against his clothed crotch – and, fuck, Shiro presses his lips to Lance’s neck and mouths his way down the space where the buttons are undone.

Lance can't withhold the squeak that’s torn from his throat, can't help but squeal when Shiro tears his shirt open – well, it's Keith’s shirt, so there's _that_ – and then Shiro’s grabbing him by the thighs and dragging Lance down towards him, forcing Lance to hit the bedsheets, flat on his back, skirt hiked up and knees being held open by Shiro.

“Oh,” Lance says a little dizzily. “Gonna slurp me up like I’m one of those slushies you like?”

“ _Lance_ ,” Shiro scolds, without much venom in his voice. But his cheeks are flushing still and his voice is still all wrecked and growly like _yeah, Lance, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do to you_.

Lance shivers, bats his eyelashes, keeps his legs held open as Shiro ducks his head to mouth at his thighs – right between the skirt and the thigh-highs, defiling all the clothes that oh-so-pretty oh-so-demonic _Keith_ gave to him.

And Lance just can't help but _laugh_ at the thought.

Lance curls his fingers into Shiro’s bedsheets, and he laughs until he can't breathe anymore – until Shiro has him moaning too much to _inhale-exhale_ properly, until Shiro's tongue and fingers drag him to the loveliest death possible.

**Author's Note:**

> ok but??  
> keith as h. chandler, pidge as h. duke, and hunk as h. mcnamara _bc goddammit i'm obsessed with color-coding and matching color schemes_
> 
> might write another part with keith/lance with both of them in miniskirts. lowkey inspired by candy store. bc. um.
> 
> hahahaha plz dont hate me
> 
> anyway concrit would be super appreciated?? bc i know my writing is super run-on and i use too many italics and dashes lol. thanks friends :))


End file.
